


What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

by williamastankova



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Drunken Confessions, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Inspired by Music, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamastankova/pseuds/williamastankova
Summary: It's the Watcher's first New Year's Eve party, and Shane can't find Ryan anywhere all night - until he does.OR - Shane and Ryan share a New Year's kiss to welcome in the New Year.(based on Ella Fitzgerald's song of the same title)
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej, Shyan - Relationship
Comments: 11
Kudos: 63





	What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

Office parties. Often hit-or-miss events, and Shane in the past has found he either (a) ends up cowering in a corner, drinking himself stupid before Ubering home, or (b) dancing like one of those car wash inflatable mascots, smiling til his face is sore, laughing with friends and waking up without a single memory of the night before.

Tonight, though, it's been a little different. First, he'd tried to busy himself with greeting people, and his proudest moment when he'd cracked a hilarious Carrot Top joke about Steven's freshly dyed hair (though, in all honesty, the citrus orange actually sort of suits him, in a strange way). He'd chatted to a few friends - new and old - and had a few drinks, but there's something that's been bugging him all night.

Ryan. His shorter half, his best friend and 'co-CEO', if such a title exists. Shane hates to admit it, hates to seem codependent, but he'd been subconsciously looking out for the guy all night so far. He's sort of been missing him - not that he'd tell him that, for fear of never living down such uncharacteristic sentimentality.

At first, he'd merely been wondering where the little guy had gone off to, but then he became preoccupied, wondering if he was in the office at all, or maybe he'd skipped the party entirely. 

He hadn't _seemed_ ill the last time they spoke - at least not that Shane had noticed. Though, when Shane thought about it, he had looked a little warm, and Shane remembered the vibrant blush that had crowded his cheeks intermittently. 

Still, it hadn't seemed like anything major, and when they parted at around seven or so, they'd said their goodbyes completely normally. No mention of illness or anything.

And now Ryan wasn't here.

Shane had tried to keep his focus on his conversations, the ones with people from Buzzfeed and one particularly gruelling one with a man he couldn't remember the name of (one of Steven's friends? Did Steven have friends?) about nothing in particular, and Shane was certain the man's hearty laugh would be etched in his mind forever.

He had tried to join in, but his mind still strayed. 

Even though he tried to do it nonchalantly, Shane couldn't lie to himself. All night, he'd been scanning the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ryan drinking or dancing somewhere. He'd probably be with Steven or Andrew. He'd probably be wearing some stupid outfit, like a sports tee. He'd probably be beaming, as usual; maybe he'd even spare a glance for Shane, the quirk of a lip.

No. This was stupid. What were they, married? No, Shane didn't miss him. Not so much that he'd let Ryan's absence ruin his night, no way. He found Steven again and took to their usual banter, playing a drinking game and drinking an absurd number of shots.

By the time 11pm hit, he was - to say the least - a teensy bit drunk. In real terms, that was to say his vision was swimming, his smile was loose, and he was pretty damn far gone.

This was, naturally and much to Shane's dismay, when drunk-Steven's maternal instincts kicked in, and he was officially banned from drinking alcohol.

"Drink this," Steven ordered, almost falling flat on his ass as he swayed, thrusting a pint glass of water into Shane's hand, then patting him limply on the head and staring into his eyes, "Drink. Feel better."

"Thanks, Caveman Carrot Top," Shane smiled lazily, and Steven nodded, disappearing among the sea of swaying people. Shane had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't see the man again that night. 

*  
  
It's true what they say, about time flying when you're having fun. It's also true, Shane came to find that night, that time flies when you're doing fuck all, sat drinking water for half an hour straight.

One moment, his phone screen read 11:15. Then, in the blink of an eye, it read 11:45, and all of a sudden Shane was feeling much more alert. Only fifteen more minutes, he thought briefly.

Still no Ryan, and this thought was much more all-consuming than the last. No matter how he tried to shake it, his night had become absorbed by the distinct lack of a short side-kick to his left, an absence of infectuous laughter polluting the night.

As his shoulders slumped and his internal monologue saddened, a miracle happened. Now, Lord knows Shane's not one for superstitions, but _hypothetically_ if he were, he might have thought he'd accidentally summoned the man. Speak of the Devil, or something crazy and Medieval like that.

A hand slapped his shoulder, roughly planting itself there, forcing Shane to look up.

"Ryan!" He called to the man, a little too enthusiastically, loud so he could be heard over the suddenly booming music. "Where've you been, man?"

"I've been _mingling_ ," Ryan punctuated this statement with a disgraceful jazz-hands gesture, forcing a wide smile to crack open Shane's face, "Have you seen Steven's hair? Dude look like-"

"Carrot Top, yeah," Shane nodded along, seeing where his friend's train of thought was going; great minds think alike. 

It was hard to ignore how his insides suddenly felt alight with Ryan's presence, as though the sun had just arrived, incarnate, all warmth and joy and beauty.

Beauty?

Speaking of, Ryan had actually put in effort tonight. Gone were the sports tees and vests; here was the pressed white shirt, and funky suit jacket to match. Jeans, of course, as this was only a business-casual sort of affair. But still...

"You look good, Ry," he heard himself saying, before he could stop himself. And then, uninvited and without warning, Ryan's illness must have come back, because his face was suddenly beet-red, as it had been last night, and the man seemed to squirm under Shane's gaze.

"Shut up, Shane," Ryan mumbled, taking a sip of his fruity looking drink. Shane wanted to ask him where he got it from, but the padlock was on. No askie askie, only quiet.

Shane began to chuckle, and had to cover his mouth to suppress it.

"What?" Ryan asked, quirking a brow, looking at his friend as though he had gone positively insane. Soon, though, without further explanation from Shane, Ryan joined along in the hysteria, finding Shane's laughter funny, even without context.

Shane was going to say something, he was sure of it. Maybe it was about hysteria, or folie-a-deux, or maybe he was going to compare their inexplicable laughter to Those People Who Danced Until They Died in France™. But he didn't get the chance, because-

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

The countdown had started around them, and Shane managed to terminate his laugh-attack to glance around, watching his friends dancing, grinning, counting. He smiled fondly, momentarily considering how lucky he was to have had the experiences he had, how glad he was that he and Ryan had taken the leap - alongside Steven - to make Watcher a reality.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

His gaze made its way leisurely back to Ryan, who he found looking strangely engaged by... something. He was staring straight at Shane, hands fumbling and fiddling. He clutched at his glass, then decided it was too much of an inconvenience and decided to deposit it on a nearby table. 

"Four! Three! Two!"

Shane shrugged, figuring Ryan could've just been a little nervous about the year coming to an end. It was understandable, of course, after everything that had happened. He considered what next year would bring, rolled a few ideas around in his head. What sort of adventures would they go on together next?

"One!"

Confetti and various sparkling items - balloons included - dropped from somewhere unseen, a touch which Shane presumed was Steven's work. 

And there it was. The New Year. Shane almost felt a chill down his spine, except he didn't because there was nothing supernatural about this moment at all. Special, sure, but supernatural? Chills? Spines? No way.

Except there was a tradition he had forgotten. He realised only when the people around them began to pair off, each grabbing the person nearest to them and kissing.

Oh.

Well, that was a thing.

A very popular thing, it seemed, as he quickly scoured the place and found that at least ninety-nine percent of their friends and coworkers were now making out with someone, as a strange tradition to welcome in the year. 

Smirking, Shane turned back to Ryan. He had a clever quip on his lips, was going to make a joke about something or other, but he only managed, "Hey, Ry-" before it was rudely (and very abruptly) stolen from his lips.

Yes, despite his incomprehension of the whole situation, it took Shane very little time to analyse the situation and realise that Ryan was, in fact, kissing him, too.

At first, he figured it was a joke that was going to be short-lived, given how roughly their lips had been pressed together. But as Ryan's grasp on his jaw tightened and he pulled back, re-arranging their lips hastily, Shane's stomach simultaneously plummeted and soared. 

Instinctively, he shut his eyes, putting his empty glass on the nearest surface (chair? Table? It didn't matter, really). He reached up for Ryan, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck, pulling him in closer. Maybe it seemed desperate, but maybe Shane really didn't care.

He took the lead, withdrawing, moving so his nose wasn't crudely pushing against Ryan's cheek - his very, very warm cheek, which he realised as they parted was glowing bright pink.

The chatter came back to the room around them, but neither of them spoke. Just stared, looking equally bewildered by what had just happened. Ryan had the audacity to look surprised, even though he was the one who had sprung the kiss upon Shane. He had to laugh.

"Well," Shane broke the silence eventually, gaze briefly dropping to the floor before returning to Ryan's sparkling, brilliant eyes, "Happy New Year, Ryan."

"Happy New Year, Shane," Ryan instantly responded, though he seemed far away. Shane wondered if he'd ever get him back to earth.

"Though, I have to say," Shane crossed his arms, trying to look scrutinising but the sarcasm dripped from his expression and action, a dead give-away, "You could've bought me dinner first."

Ryan's face flushed once more, and he murmured a half-hearted "shut up, Shane," and beamed as he nudged the other man where he sat. Still, his lingering arm said otherwise.

"Yes, sir," Shane obeyed, and he highly suspected the events of that night were only just getting started.

**Author's Note:**

> hey all!! happy new year :) i haven't written in what feels like FOREVER so pls forgive if this isn't the best thing ever, but i got this idea and really wanted to write this for our boys!!
> 
> let me know what you thought & if there's any other fic ideas you have for shyan :)


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